


In Loving Memory

by eternaleponine



Category: Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 21:59:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1242121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An encounter in an alternate dimension leads to bonding.  Later, a maybe-not-so-offhand comment leads to a lot more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Loving Memory

"Bad dreams?" America sat down next to Kate, elbows on knees, her hands dangling from her wrists between them. 

"Keeping watch," Kate said. She had her bow – _her_ bow, not the one that Noh-Varr had given her (lent her? she didn't know) – in her hands and an arrow held loosely between her fingers, ready to be nocked and fired at a moment's notice.

"For what?"

Kate shrugged. She didn't know. There didn't seem to be anything around, friend or foe, which was why they'd decided to stop here for a little while to try and rest. They were all exhausted; it had been weeks catapulting themselves from one dimension to another, and it was taking its toll.

"What about you?" she asked. "You should rest."

"I'm fine," America said. "Don't you worry about me, Princess." 

But she wasn't fine. Kate could see it in the way she held herself, the way she moved, no matter how much she tried to hide it, but most especially she could see it in the darkness of her eyes. Already a deep chocolate brown, it was now almost impossible to tell iris from pupil, and maybe it didn't mean anything but Kate was pretty sure it did. 

"You should rest anyway," Kate said. "That's why we're here. It's why we stopped."

"Can't sleep," America said after a moment. 

"Bad dreams?"

"I asked you first."

"And I answered," Kate said, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye. "Your turn."

"You didn't answer," America pointed out. "You deflected."

"Sure, if you want to get semantic."

"You got anything better to do?"

"You do."

Kate didn't have to be looking to know that America rolled her eyes in response, but she waited for her to say something, or to get up and leave. 

"Yeah? What's that?" America asked. She sounded almost... amused. 

Kate looked at her more fully then, and discovered that America was looking straight at her from closer than she'd realized she'd gotten. It was enough to make her heart skip a beat. _Sloppy_ , she thought. _Very sloppy. The kind of sloppy that could get you killed, Katie-Kate._

She missed Clint. She realized it then, and her heart squeezed again, painfully. She missed Clint, idiot that he could be, more than just about anything. He was family (almost?) more than her actual blood relatives were, and he certainly understood her better. 

It felt like she was always missing people. What if she never got to go back? What if she'd left and she hadn't even really said goodbye? Would he miss her? Would he come looking for her? Was he too much of an adult? Would he be like Captain America and the rest of them? 

"Sleep," Kate said. 

"I already have two moms," America said, and she was definitely smirking now. "I don't need another one."

It was a joke. America was making a joke, trying to lighten the mood, but... "Right," Kate said, her voice thick with emotion as it all rose up and she couldn't swallow it down hard or fast enough. 

"Uh-oh." America leaned away slightly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Kate said, too quickly. "Nothing. It's fine."

"Uh-huh." America looked around them, searching for signs of life maybe, or checking on the whereabouts of their friends – colleagues, compatriots, whatever one wanted to call them. "I can see that."

"Don't," Kate said. "I don't—"

"You think I do?" America snorted. "Trouble is, I think you need to. Only you don't want to put your shit on anyone else's shoulders. They've got their own shit, right? They've got their own problems, their own worries. They don't need yours on top of it. Right?"

She wasn't wrong, but it was more than that. At least right now, in this particular moment, on this particular night. It was so much more than that, and there was no way she could tell any of the others. If they hadn't noticed, then... well, good for them. Better for them. Either that or they wouldn't understand.

"Or maybe you don't trust them. Or maybe a little of both. That about cover it?"

"Just about," Kate said.

"But you keep it inside and it eats you up. It keeps you up at night, haunts you, hunts you, hollows you out. And you can't afford that. _We_ can't afford that. You're the grown-up one. The strong one. If you break down..." She raised her eyebrows, flipped up her hands to show her palms. "So the way I see it, you're putting us all in danger if you don't let it out. And I can't let you do that."

"So I'm just supposed to spill my guts to you?" Kate asked. "Just because you say so?"

"No," America said. "You can tell anyone you want. Go talk to Noh-Varr, or Billy. Teddy. David. I wouldn't recommend Loki, but I can't stop you, either. It doesn't matter to me who you talk to. But I'm here now. So... up to you."

But America had called it before, and Kate was pretty sure she knew it. "I can't," she said. "I can't explain."

"You can try," America said. 

Kate opened her mouth, closed it again, shook her head. "What's the point? It won't change anything." 

"Never know until you try," America told her. 

But the words wouldn't come, and wouldn't come. Kate sat in silence, and when she couldn't stand it, couldn't stand the stillness of it, the expectation that radiated from America's skin in waves, she got up and found something to shoot at, and fired one arrow after another until she ran out, and then went to retrieve them to start all over again. 

America took her arm, held it in a grip that was too tight to slip out of, but not tight enough that it hurt, exactly. Except being touched at all hurt right now, which was why she'd dodged Noh-Varr when he'd started making noises like it might be time to go to bed. The last thing she wanted was that kind of comfort.

"Give them here," America said. "Give me the arrows."

Kate held on to them, shook her head. "No."

"Yes. We're going to... not play a game. We're going to make a deal. An exchange. You give me the arrows, and I'll give them back to you. One sentence. One _word_ , even, for an arrow."

She didn't want to talk about it. She _needed_ to talk about it. She handed the arrows over. "Cassie," she said, and held out her hand. America handed her back one of the arrows, and Kate took a deep breath, waited for the world to slow itself down, let it go, watched it hit its mark. "Her name is – was – Cassie. Cassie Lang. She was my friend."

Another arrow, another shot. 

"I saw her. I don't think anyone else did. But I saw her." She held out her hand.

America gave her an arrow, watching her, not where she aimed, not whether she hit the target, just her. Kate could feel the other girl's eyes on her.

"She's dead. But I saw her."

"Where?" America asked as she doled out another arrow.

"That last dimension," Kate said. "No, the second to last. It was only for a minute, but I know it was her."

Inhale, exhale, draw, shoot. "She was one of us. We called her – she called herself – Stature. She was Scott Lang's daughter. She could shrink and grow. She died bringing back her father. She died while we watched and we couldn't do anything. She died."

Another arrow, then a second, and a third, without waiting for her to say anything more. Apparently she'd earned herself extra brownie points. 

"She was my best friend," Kate said, when the arrows stopped coming. She waited for her reward, because she needed to get herself steady. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Repeat again. Ready. Aim. Fire.

"I loved her." 

She stared at the ground, held out her hand, but instead of an arrow being placed in it, her fingers were encircled by America's. She looked at them, pale skin and brown, joined, and looked at America. The darkness was gone from her eyes. 

"I'm sorry," America said. "I didn't know."

Didn't know that Cassie would be there? Didn't know that Cassie had existed at all? Didn't know that it still hurt, the place where she'd once been in Kate's life, in Kate's heart, every single damn day since they'd lost her? Kate didn't know, and it didn't matter.

"I miss her," Kate said, sniffing and blinking hard. "I miss her so damn much."

"I'm sorry," America said. Her hand slid up to Kate's wrist, her elbow, around her back. She pulled her in against her shoulder, wrapped her in her arms and held her tight.

Kate stood stiff in her grasp, not knowing how to react because this wasn't how it was supposed to go. How had she not noticed that something was wrong with America? How had she not noticed that she'd been replaced by someone else, someone who could do the things that America did but who was no, absolutely not, couldn't be—

"Kate," she said, "relax."

She wanted to. She wanted to give in, to let herself take comfort when it was offered because it was offered so seldom, but she couldn't. This was all wrong, and maybe it was just a bad dream after all, but...

America sighed, and it felt like she at once deflated and put up a wall between them as she stepped away. "Never mind. Do what you want."

And that was more like her. Kate stared at the ground, thought about apologizing, didn't. What did she have to be sorry for? This wasn't who they were together. They weren't _friends_. Not in any real sense of the word. America was a colleague, an ally, but most of the time Kate was pretty sure that Miss America Chavez didn't like her very much. 

It wasn't even anything personal. She didn't like _anyone_ very much, and if it wasn't for Loki Kate very much doubted that she would have stuck around this long... or that she would have shown up at all in the first place. 

"I just don't..." Kate started, but her voice trailed off, because on top of everything else she just didn't, she just didn't know what to say. "It's been a long day. Week. Couple of weeks."

"You think I don't know?" America went and gathered up the arrows again, returning them to Kate. "Try to get some rest at some point. We don't know what tomorrow will bring."

"You too," Kate said, almost absently. She drew her bow again, took aim, let go. 

Let go. 

If only it was that easy. 

Of all of them, why had it been Cassie? Maybe Cassie was the most willing to sacrifice herself. But if it was going to be anyone, it should have been Kate herself. She was the one without powers. She was the one with nothing but her brains, some martial arts training, and a quiver full of arrows. She was the one who was only human, with all of the weaknesses associated. She couldn't make herself small, or big, or turn her skin into armor, or warp reality or move at super speeds or anything else. 

And she'd been leading them. She was the one they looked to. She was the thinker, the planner... they called Eli the leader, but he wasn't, really. She was in charge. So Cassie's death was her fault, really, and wasn't it only fair that her friend would haunt her now? Wasn't it only fair, when they were far from home and might never be allowed to go back, that she would pop up to remind her of everything she'd lost?

Okay, fair probably wasn't the word. It definitely wasn't _fair_. None of it was _fair_ , but life wasn't fair. 

"I miss you," she said softly to the air, to Cassie who wasn't there. It wasn't the first time she'd talked to her, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last. "It wasn't for nothing, you know. Your father is back now, he's alive, like you wanted. You did that. But... what good does it do you, if you're not alive to see it? What good does it do him, to know that you sacrificed yourself for him? What kind of life is it for a father without a daughter?"

She swallowed hard, thinking of all of the arguments she'd had with her father, all of the disagreements about what she should do and be when she grew up, where she should go to school and who was an appropriate friend and whether she was going to go to this event or that one, what her obligations as a Bishop were and what she shouldn't do because it wouldn't look good for the family and on and on and on. 

There were moments where she thought she might hate him, just a little... but now what wouldn't she give to see him again? Because she couldn't. She might never see him again. And you didn't know how much something mattered until it was lost, and then it's too late. Everything you might have said you'll never get to say.

And if she did get to go back? What would she say to him? 

Nothing, probably. Because that wasn't how the Bishop family worked. Not since Mom...

 _Damn it._ She scrubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand, blinked hard but couldn't make them focus as tears slid down her cheeks, one after another, and she sniffed and sniveled and tried to hold it in.

When that didn't work, she slid to the ground, knees to chest and arms wrapped around them, rocking side to side as she sobbed and hoped that no one heard. It went on for what felt like ages, but probably wasn't, crying so hard that it hurt, ached in her throat and in her ears, the lump that she couldn't swallow putting pressure there, or at least that's what it felt like.

It crashed over her like a wave, everything she'd never entirely let herself feel, and left her shivering in its wake. It wasn't cold, but she trembled anyway, keeping herself wrapped up tight in herself until someone draped something around her shoulders, and then layered themself on top of it. 

Kate opened her eyes, lifted her head just slightly to see whose arms were around her, whose fingers twined through hers and held tight, and saw a star tattooed on brown skin. She didn't say a word, didn't move, barely breathed, because she didn't want to break the moment again. 

"I'm supposed to be keeping watch," she mumbled after she wasn't sure how long.

"I'll keep it for you," America responded. "I won't let anything happen."

"Promise?" Kate asked, like a child, and wished she could take it back.

"No," America said. "I don't make promises I don't know if I can keep. But I'll try my damnedest."

"Okay," Kate said, and relaxed back against her, uncurling a little and letting her head fall back against the other girl's shoulder. "Good enough."

And for the moment it was.

 

*

 

"What did you mean?"

The voice came from just behind America, too close, and how could she have let someone sneak up on her like that? She turned quickly, hands up in a fighting guard, just in case, and almost sent the person who'd dared to get too close sprawling.

Kate put her own hands up, but in surrender rather than any sort of aggressive gesture. "Whoa," she said. "Sorry."

America let her hands drop, but not all the way. Her fingers loosened, but stayed curled just a little, ready to settle back into fists at any moment as they stayed near her hips. "What are you doing sneaking around, Princess?" she asked. "Looking for trouble?"

"Trouble already found me," Kate said, the corners of her mouth turning up. "I sent him packing."

"After a little smooching," America pointed out.

Kate laughed. "Too bad Loki's not around to hear you say that," she said. "His head would explode."

"Too bad," America agreed. "It would be worth it."

"You really hate him?" Kate asked. "He came through in the end."

"It was all his fault in the beginning," America pointed out. "He can't be trusted."

Kate shrugged. "Probably not," she said. "But it ended up all right."

America's eyebrows went up, not bothering to agree or disagree. "So what are you looking for, if not trouble?"

"You," Kate told her. "I was looking for you. I want to know what you meant by what you said before."

Her brows crept higher. "What did I say? I say a lot of things, and sometimes I even mean them."

"I don't think you've ever said anything that you didn't mean," Kate said. "It's not your style."

"What is my style?" America asked.

"You're direct. You don't waste words, or effort, or time. You see a thing that needs to be done, and you do it. You don't imply when you can just say what you're thinking straight out. Which is why..." Kate stopped herself, adjusted her mask which America somehow hadn't noticed she'd gone back to wearing... or maybe had noticed but hadn't attached any significance to. Until now.

"I was being direct," America said. "I don't think there was really anything that ambiguous about the statement."

Kate frowned. "I don't look at you any way," she said. "I didn't even think you liked me."

"So you said," America replied. "But I wouldn't waste my time being here if I didn't, now would I? Loki's gone. There's no reason for me to hang around. I'm not exactly a party girl."

"Just... can you answer the question?" Kate asked, showing uncertainty that didn't really suit her, but seemed genuine enough. Maybe she really _didn't_ know what America had been saying... or maybe she just was really oblivious to the way...

 _Or maybe **you** are the one reading into things,_ America pointed out to herself. _Maybe you're seeing what you want to see._ But it wasn't impossible, was it? After all, there was Cassie, and it was pretty obvious that there had been more there than just friendship.

But obvious to who? Obvious to Kate, or obvious to her? And she'd never actually seen them together, and absence makes the heart grow fonder, and...

"Which question?" America asked. "You've asked a few now."

"How do I look at you?" Kate asked. "How do I look at you that you would decide that I'm not— You don't just get to say those kinds of things about people, you know. You don't get to decide for them what their truth is."

"Maybe I was just joking," America said, somewhere between 'the lady doth protest too much' and heartbreak.

"You don't joke," Kate said. "I don't think I've ever heard you make a joke in all the time I've known you. You're quite possibly one of the most humorless people I've ever known. So don't try to play that card."

She was angry, America realized. Kate was actually, genuinely angry. But why? "Fine. I wasn't joking. But you're right, I don't get to decide for you. And I can't explain it, how you look at me. How can you explain a look?"

"Then show me!" Kate demanded. "Show me how I look at you."

America rolled her eyes. "Right. Like I can just reproduce a look on demand."

"Try."

"I don't think you really want me to do that," America said. "There's no going back."

"I don't care."

America sighed. How had she gotten herself into this? Why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut? Why hadn't Kate made up with Noh-Varr, or gone off with Tommy, or found someone else entirely? Why was she here, in America's face, demanding an explanation for something that America couldn't explain without making things complicated.

Now wasn't the time for complications. It really, really wasn't. Now was the time for moving on, going... wherever she should go next, she guessed. Except she didn't know where that was, but she was pretty sure it wasn't here. She'd been with them for weeks, months. She'd traveled with them through world after world, and now they'd reached the end of the line and she still wasn't exactly one of them.

But she wasn't exactly _not_ one of them, either.

Still, she could go anywhere, and _should_ go somewhere. Soon. But something held her back. 

_No,_ she corrected herself. Some _one_ held her back, and that someone was staring at her expectantly, arms crossed, chin up in that, 'Well? I'm waiting...' look that America had become pretty familiar with, although it wasn't usually directed at her.

She shook her head, and then just... gave in. And let it show on her face, as best she could, the way she felt about Kate. Which wasn't exactly how Kate looked at her, maybe wasn't at all how Kate looked at her, but it got the point across.

"I don't..." Kate said. "When I have I ever...?"

But she didn't sound sure, and America didn't know what that meant, and it was stupid to play this kind of game which was probably going to backfire, blow up in her face, and burn bridges that she might need in the future. 

"See?" America said. "You can't just reproduce a look. Especially when it's not even your own look."

Kate took a step closer, and America very nearly took a step back before catching herself and holding her ground. Her own arms came up now, crossed over her chest like Kate's, a physical barrier between them.

"That's not how I looked at you," Kate said. "I'm pretty sure I would have noticed."

"Like I said," America replied. "It was stupid." _And you'd better stop right there, Princess, or at least one of us is going to regret what happens next._ But Kate didn't stop. She closed the space between them until all it would have taken was a deep breath on either of their parts for their elbows to bump. 

They stared at each other, America up and Kate down, just a little, just enough to make America feel small, and she _hated_ feeling small, and they were arguing without words, fighting without moving, challenging each other... to what? For what?

"Why don't you just say it?" Kate asked.

"Say what?"

"Whatever it is you want to say."

"There's nothing I want to say," America said. 

Kate snorted. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Because you've got a suspicious nature," America said. "But you should know by now, I'm not really one for talking."

"No," Kate admitted. "You're not." And the corner of her lips curled up again in a smirk that made America want to bare her teeth. 

"Take off your mask," America said. "Unless you've got something to hide."

"Only if you take off yours," Kate said.

"I'm not wearing one."

"Liar," Kate said, reaching behind her head and tugging the bow from the ribbon that held her mask to her face. She let it drop away, tucking it into the little bag that she carried. "You are. You let me see behind it, just for a second, then you put it right back in place. Take it off."

"You don't—"

"You don't get to tell me my truth," Kate whispered, leaning in, her hands on America's elbows where he arms were still locked firmly between them. "Remember?"

America growled and released her grip on herself, instead laying her forearms over Kate's, gripping her biceps – but careful, very careful, that it wasn't so tight that Kate couldn't pull away if she wanted to. "Do I get to tell you mine?" she asked.

Again, that smirk, and America wanted so badly to wipe it away. "I keep asking, don't I?"

So America told her. Or rather, showed her. She pressed her lips, fast, against the other girl's, but hard enough that there was no way she didn't feel it, no way that she could question what had happened. And then she took half a step back, arms up again, defensive, and glared.

Kate blinked once, then again, a little longer and harder than would be normal. "How long have you wanted to do that?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

America shrugged. "How long have you wanted me to?"

"I asked you first," Kate replied. "But... I didn't. Know. That I wanted you to. Not until you did."

America frowned, reached into her pocket, pulled out a compact and flipped it open. It didn't actually have makeup in it, powder or blush or whatever girls that usually carried that sort of thing kept at hand. She wasn't one of those girls. Nothing wrong with those girls; she got the feeling Kate could be one of those girls, but she wasn't one of them. What you saw was what you got. 

She turned it toward Kate, so she could see herself in the mirror. "That look," she said. "That's the look you've given me. Only... more."

"How much more?"

America wasn't sure whether she really meant the question, so she didn't answer. "A while," she said instead, answering the first question... or whatever number they were on now. The one that Kate had asked first, before America had answered the question with a question. "I don't know."

"And now that you've done it?" Kate asked, her eyebrows up. "Was it worth it?"

"Worth what?" Usually that was the sort of question that one asked when there was a price attached to something, but there wasn't a price here, was there? If she'd wanted it, and Kate had wanted it (even if she'd only just realized she'd wanted it afterward), where was the problem? 

"Worth the wait," Kate asked. "However long it was."

America thought about it. Really thought about it, because Kate expected honesty, and when had America ever given anyone anything else? "Not yet," she said. "Not... just like that."

"When?" Kate asked. "What would make it worth it?"

"If you—" America stopped herself, corrected before she could make an error, start an argument, although she wasn't sure she would mind getting into it with Kate over this, because it might be better if they both had something to prove. But then she didn't want something to happen just to prove a point. 

She wasn't sure she wanted something to happen at all. Her head wasn't, anyway. Her body... yeah. Yeah, it was down for whatever. Her heart was torn somewhere in between. 

"If I gave you the chance to kiss me back," America said after a second's hesitation. "If you did. If you wanted to. That would make it worth it."

"Is that a question, then? Or, rather, a request?"

"If you want it to be," America said. 

"Let me think about it," Kate said, sliding one foot forward, then the other, until she was so close to America it was hard to focus on her face in its entirety so she just closed her eyes. 

And then... it was worth it. It was _so_ worth it, every time she'd looked at Kate and wondered, every time Kate had looked at her and she'd wondered more. Every time they'd been in proximity and her body had sent up alarms about just how long it had been and just how good it would feel... Yeah. It was worth it.

"You taste like cherries," America said, licking her lips as their mouths parted. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, her pulse beating through her so hard she could feel it to the tips of her fingers and toes, and so many places in between. 

"Shirley Temples," Kate said. "I didn't want to take a chance on having to reality-hop under the influence."

"I think we're done with that for a while," America said. She'd brought them home for breakfast, one last meal for them as a group before they shifted back into their regular lives. "Unless..." She lifted a boot by way of suggestion.

"Oh, I want to go somewhere with you," Kate said, "but it doesn't involve stomping a hole between dimensions." 

"Where, then?" America asked. 

"My place," Kate said, turning away. "It's been a long time since I've actually gotten to sleep in my own bed."

"Is that what you want?" America asked. "To sleep?"

Kate turned to look at her over her shoulder and winked. "Coming?"

 

*

 

She didn't know if she was making the right decision, but she didn't know if it was a wrong one, either. Was it possible for a decision to be somewhere in between? A neutral decision? A decision that might go either way?

She'd blown off Tommy because it felt like stepping backward, and so much had happened since the last time she'd seen him... she wasn't the same person she'd been back then. She was older now, wiser... wise enough to know that what she wanted right now wasn't to be swept off her feet. She wanted - _needed_ \- something more solid.

America was nothing if not that.

She was also not like anyone else Kate had ever been with. And not just because she was a girl.

She pushed open the door to her apartment, hoping that she hadn't left the place too much of a mess. Although she had her doubts about how much America would be paying to anything but, well, her. 

_No pressure._

America shut the door behind her, twisted the lock, and looked at Kate expectantly. And Kate found herself suddenly having no idea how to do this. She'd never... There'd been Noh-Varr, but that had mostly been following where he led, and she'd ended up in space. This wasn't anything like that. This was just her and a... could she call her a friend? She ought to be able to call her a friend by now, and yet...

 _Don't overthink it, Katie-Kate,_ she told herself, only her self sounded an awful lot like Clint, and the _last_ person on the planet she would ever want to take romantic advice from was him... but whatever happened, however this ended, there was no way for it to be as much of a disaster as his car-crash life.

She didn't have a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, or a husband or wife. She wasn't cheating on anyone. She wasn't in trouble with the mob (well only a little bit) so it should be all right. 

"Everything all right, Princess?" America asked, and Kate suddenly wondered how long she'd been standing there. A quick glance at the hall mirror told her her face hadn't gone too blank and staring, so that was something.

"I think so," Kate said. "Yeah... I'm pretty sure."

 _Way to go. Very eloquent._ "Could be better, though," she said. "Don't you think?"

"Could be," America agreed. "How about you show me how?"

So Kate kissed her, kissed her hard enough to push her back a step, back against the door, and she felt America's arms around her waist, holding her tight, and tighter as their mouths opened to each other, as tongues touched and pulled away and touched again, forcing their bodies together in ways that made her feel more alive than she ever had (with the possible exception of following a very near death experience). 

She broke away when she started to get dizzy, panting against the other girl's cheek, her lips finding her ear and nibbling at the lobe, and she felt America's body buck against hers, pushing her back and away with a growl, only to catch her again so that she was never entirely out of her grasp, and now Kate was the one with her back to the wall, and America's lips against her throat, finding the hollow behind her ear that tickled as her breath touched it, making her shoulder come up and her chin tuck down, and America drew back a little to look at her, worry in her eyes for a second that was quickly replaced by mischief.

"Ticklish, Princess?" she asked.

Kate shook her head. "Only there," she said. "I don't like being tickled." 

"Then I won't," America said, and her lips traced the curve of her jaw, and then they were kissing again, kissing and gripping each other like they wanted to crawl into each other's skins but couldn't figure out how. 

Clothing. They should start with clothing, Kate realized, and worked her hands under America's jacket to push it off her shoulders, letting it drop, but that didn't give her much more than what she'd had, and why did she dress in so many damn layers, anyway?

She kicked off her own shoes, and even without the heels she was taller than America, but it was a much narrower gap now, and neither of them had to strain to kiss, and it was as if somehow that dialed down the urgency, just a little, put them on equal footing (no pun intended, and America still had her shoes on, so not quite equal) , and the kisses slowed and their fingers didn't dig in quite so hard, didn't hold so tight as they slid over shoulders, arms, sides, hips...

Kate found the hem of America's shirt at the small of her back, worked her hand under it. Her skin was damp there, and she traced her fingers up her spine, stopping when she hit the band of her bra and moving back down again, wanting more than those few inches.

"Off," she said, tugging on the shirt. "Now."

America raised an eyebrow, but stripped off the shirt, and Kate drew her fingers down her sides, over her ribs to her hips, watching as goosebumps rose up in their wake, and even through the tight sports bra she could see the other girl's nipples tighten. 

And she wanted to touch them. She wanted to take them between her lips, trace them with the tip of her tongue, and where were these thoughts even coming from? Where had this desire been hiding itself? 

America toed off her sneakers and stood in front of Kate, barefoot, expectant. "Your move, Princess," she said. 

"Come to my room," Kate said, her voice soft, a little rough around the edges. She held out her hand and was surprised when America took it, allowing herself to be led down the short hallway to the bedroom, to the bed that Kate had never shared with anyone and did she really want...?

America let go and slid her arms around Kate's waist from behind, placing kisses along her shoulder and up the back of her neck, and Kate laced her fingers through the other girl's where they rested over her hipbones and squeezed them hard as her breath caught and her knees went weak.

"I need you to let go," America whispered against her skin, and Kate couldn't be sure but she thought that her tongue had flicked over the nape of her neck. "Just for a second."

Kate did as she was bid, and America took her hands away. She turned to look, to see what she was doing, but then felt her work open the hook at the top of the zipper that held her dress closed until it didn't, and her back was exposed to the slightly chilly air as the dress fell away, until it was replaced by the heat of America's body against hers, and she was locked in the other girl's arms again. 

She squirmed around to face America because she needed to see her, needed to know what was going on in her head... at least as much of it as she would allow to show on her face, in her eyes, which wasn't much usually, but maybe...

"I want to kiss you," Kate whispered, leaning in to pour the words into America's ear. "I want to touch you, every part of you. I want..."

"You won't hear me objecting, Prin—" America started, but didn't get to finish because Kate did exactly what she said and kissed her.

And kissed her.

And kissed her.

Kate was so intent on staying upright as her limbs turned to jelly that she didn't notice America unfastening her bra until it dropped between their bodies as they shifted apart and back together again, and she didn't notice either as the pins were worked out of her hair dropped into the puddle of clothing around their feet so that her hair tumbled down around her shoulders and America buried her hands in it.

It didn't seem quite fair, that Kate was down to only her underwear while America was still dressed enough that she could have jogged down the street and no one would have even batted an eye (well, except to stare appreciatively...) but it was her own fault, really. 

Her hands dropped to America's hips, and she worked open the buttons on her shorts, first one side, then the other, and they slid down her legs. She hooked her thumbs in the elastic of her underwear (and it didn't surprise her that they were boys y-fronts, or at least looked like it, blue with red trim) and slid them down, not all the way, but enough that she could trace her thumbs over America's hipbones.

She looked up at the sound America made, somewhere between a hiss and a moan, and her eyes were only just barely open, her head tipped to the side so that when she looked at Kate it was through a curtain of dark curls, and there was challenge in those eyes, and desire, but something else, too. Something that Kate wasn't used to seeing in the young woman who'd gotten them out of so many jams they'd all long since lost count: uncertainty. 

Kate smiled at her, to reassure her but also just because she wanted to see if America would smile back. It took a moment, but she did, and it wasn't like any other smile Kate had ever gotten from her before, and it sent a flush of heat through her completely separate from the one that seemed to start between her legs and spread through the rest of her. 

"You're going to have to help me out," she said, tracing a finger over the strap of America's bra. "I can't be all smooth like you with this one."

America laughed, and wow, that was worse... no, better, so much better, even than the smile and stripped it off, tossing her head and looking at Kate like, 'Yeah? Here I am.'

For a second, Kate really wasn't sure what to do. So she just fell back on what had started this all, and took America's face between her hands and kissed her, slow and soft and then deeper, rougher, asking and then demanding. 

And then they were hip to hip, belly to belly, breast to breast, with almost nothing between them and Kate felt dizzy and weak and so alive she thought she might explode out of her skin except she very much wanted to stay firmly inside of it because America's hand was on her side and moving higher, and her thumb (a little callused, a little rough, but not in a bad way) traced the curve of her breast and then her hand was between them, cupping her, and that thumb was circling her nipple and Kate's head fell back as the world felt suddenly robbed of air.

"Easy, Princess," America whispered, and sat her down on the bed so she wouldn't fall, but before she could move away Kate had her by the hips and her tongue traced a wet track over her clavicle and down her breastbone, and then she nuzzled the underside of her breast, kissing and licking until she reached the dark point, which she sucked into her mouth.

America's fingers dug into her shoulders and she moaned as Kate worked first one breast, then the other, listening to the sounds she made, feeling the tension in her body and hoping that she was getting it right as she learned what meant 'slow down' and what meant 'more'. She could feel America shaking, but she didn't ask her to stop, didn't give any indication that she wanted anything at all to change.

But it wasn't enough. Kate wanted more. Kate wanted to give her more.

She slid off the edge of the bed, down to her knees so that her head was level with America's belly, and she pressed a kiss there, just below her navel, just above the waistband of her underwear. 

"Kate..." America's voice was low, husky. "Kate, what...?"

"Do you want me to stop?" Kate asked. 

"I..." America stared down at her like she had no idea how to answer. 

"Say the word and I will," Kate said, and meant it. But she didn't think America wanted her to stop, any more than she wanted to stop. 

"No," America said. "No. Don't stop."

So Kate kissed her again, then again on one hip and again on the other, and then lower, and lower still, and America spread her legs and Kate could feel her trembling as she flicked out her tongue against the damp cloth, tasting her even through it, slightly salty, and hot.

She inched down the elastic and licked the skin as it was exposed, tasting the crease where leg joined body, and brushed her lips over the curls that hid from her what she wanted so badly to touch, to taste, the core of the girl who was leaning hard on her now, panting and shaking, so close to the edge that it wouldn't take much, wouldn't take long, to send her over.

Kate had that power. She wasn't sure she was ready to have that power, but there it was, and here she was. She slid her hands up America's thighs, teased over her lips and parted them gently before kissing her there with nothing between them now, nothing at all but her lips and America's, but not the lips she'd been kissing before, the lips that she wanted to kiss again, wanted to whisper against that this was amazing, _she_ was amazing, and thank you, thank you, _thank you_.

But she didn't say those things. She would, but not yet. Right now, there were other things for her tongue to be doing, and the taste was much more intense, and she was so hot, so wet as Kate laved her tongue over her clit.

America groaned and shuddered, leaning harder, forcing Kate to take her weight as she fought to stay upright even as her knees threatened to buckle. Finally Kate took pity on her, turning them both slowly so that America could lean against the bed, and as if knowing that she had something to fall back against gave her permission, as if she'd been holding back for fear of crumpling, she came with a shout that subsided into panting moans, and collapsed back on the bed.

"Come here," she managed after a moment, lifting her head and reaching out to Kate. "Come here, Princess. I want to kiss you."

Kate grabbed a tissue and wiped her mouth before climbing onto the bed, straddling America's hips and leaning down to do as the other girl asked, feeling slightly awkward about it considering where her mouth had just been, but America didn't seem to mind.

"I thought," she said, twining her arms around Kate's shoulders, "I would have to show you what to do." She laughed softly and kissed Kate again. 

Kate shrugged. "I figured if it was something I liked... how different can one woman's body be from another?"

"Different people like different things, but yeah," America said. "I guess it's pretty good reasoning."

"If you didn't like it, I trusted you would tell me."

"Mm." America tightened her arms around Kate and lifted her hip, dislodging her and landing her on the mattress so they were side-by-side and face-to-face. "So tell me, Princess—"

"Kate," she said. 

"Princess Kate," America teased, walking her fingers up her belly to trace her nipple again, bringing it to a point. "Tell me what you like."

"This," Kate said, the word a soft hiss. "You." She arched into the touch, pressing her breast into America's palm. "I want whatever you give me. However you want me... I'm yours."

 

*

 

They weren't words that America had expected to hear. Not from this girl. And it was a promise that was only for this moment, only for one night, most likely, but was she really looking for more? And what a night it had already been, and what a night it would be. 

"I like the sound of that," America told her, and kissed her, tasting herself on Kate's lips and not caring. Should she do the same for Kate? She said she liked it, but America wanted to be able to see her, see her face as pleasure took over, as she came. 

And who said she couldn't do both? But first...

She let her hands explore, tracing the lines and curves of Kate's body, listening to her breathing change as America found the places that she liked to be touched best, the places that were tense that relaxed at her touch, the places that made her breath catch and the places that made her sigh, the places that made her arch and whimper for more.

America was more than happy to give her more, touching every part of her, working from the tips of her fingers and her toes inward, closer and closer to the center of her, occasionally slowing, stopping to kiss her, until her hands finally reached Kate's hips, and she slipped her fingers under the waistband of her panties, sliding them down slowly, so slowly, until Kate was arching her hips, biting her lip and wordlessly begging, soft sounds coming from her throat as America slid her fingers between her thighs.

She wasn't quite touching, not yet, but she could feel the moist heat of her, could smell her arousal, and when she looked at Kate it was clear how much she wanted it. "America," she whispered, " _please_."

"Your wish is my command, Princess," America said, and slipped her fingers between her legs, tracing one fingertip through the wetness there and finding her clit, swollen with desire. She circled it once, twice, and Kate turned her head, pressing her face into the curve of America's shoulder, then looked up at her, blue eyes wide, so wide, like she hadn't expected this, and then closed again as she circled a third time, a fourth, before slipping her finger deeper, letting it slide farther back until she could feel the clench of Kate's body, and she was inside of her without even realizing that that's what she'd been doing. 

"Oh," Kate breathed. "Oh, oh..."

America slid her finger back out, circling around her opening, and then plunged in again, thrusting twice and then went back to her clit, and Kate gasped, her fingernails digging into the back of America's shoulder. "Please," she hissed, "please, yes..."

She slid into her again, adding a second finger this time, with her thumb adding pressure as Kate's hips bucked. She wasn't sure she had to do anything at that point; Kate probably could have done it all herself, but she didn't want her to. She didn't want her to have to do the work, any of it. 

"Shh," she murmured. "Shh, I've got you."

"I know," Kate said. "I know... oh!" She tensed, and America stopped, not sure if she'd done something wrong.

"No," Kate said. "It's okay. I'm okay."

So America started again, going slow not to tease but because she wanted to let it build, wanted to make sure that what she gave Kate was as good as what she'd received, the warmth of which was still pulsing just beneath the surface of her skin. 

But it didn't feel right, or at least it didn't feel the same. It was as if Kate was trying too hard, but she didn't need to be _trying_ at all. She could just let it happen, and...

"Relax," America whispered, kissing the side of her neck. "Don't fight it."

"I'm not f..." Kate stopped, bit her lip, holding her breath as her back arched again.

"Look at me," America said. "Kate, look at me."

Kate looked, and America smiled at her, brushed her nose against the other girl's, kissed her lightly, and waited for her to respond, waited for her to kiss back, to relax into it because whatever she said, she was fighting it, holding back somehow. America didn't know what was going on so she stopped, letting her hand rest on Kate's hip, going back to the beginning, to the ease of kissing.

She cradled the back of Kate's head with her other hand, drawing her close as she relaxed, pressing their bodies together again, letting the heat build between them, the urgency that they'd felt when they'd stumbled into the apartment and then the bedroom. 

They rolled together, tussling for dominance, and America let Kate win, and then Kate rolled again so that America had her pinned, and she dragged her down and kissed her hard, and she could feel Kate grinding against her hip, looking for friction, looking for release, and this time when America's hand found its way back between her legs, when she circled and thrust and rubbed Kate didn't freeze up, didn't fight, and America found just the right spot, the right pressure, the right angle, and Kate keened and then cried out once, then again, and America almost let up but didn't and she cried out a third time and collapsed back.

America slid her arms around her then, holding her close as she shook in the aftermath, stroking her back gently and kissing the corner of her eye. Kate shifted, rolled so that her back was to America, and for a second she thought that she'd upset Kate somehow, but no, she was only doing it to fit herself into the curve of America's body. 

Kate laced her fingers through America's, and she felt the other girl's lips against the star on the inside of her wrist. "Careful," she said. "You might open up a dimensional portal."

"Really?" Kate asked.

"Mm... I don't know," America admitted. "Probably not."

"You'll stay, won't you?" Kate asked. "Tonight?"

"I won't go unless you ask me to," America said. 

"I'm not asking."

"Then I'm not leaving."

"Happy New Year, America," Kate said. 

"And to you, Kate," America replied, kissing the back of her neck. "It's good to be alive."

 

*

 

Kate woke up with America's arms still around her. She turned her head to kiss the star on the inside of her wrist again, felt the other girl stir and tighten her arms slightly before settling. Kate closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

When she woke again, she was alone.

She sat up, her stomach instantly in a knot. "America?" She pushed the covers off of her legs and padded to the closet where her robe hung, wrapping it around herself. She looked around but the other girl's clothing was gone. She yanked open her bedroom door and stepped into the hall, swallowing panic and bile. "America?"

"In here, _chica_." The voice came from the kitchen, and Kate's knees went weak with relief when she saw her standing there, a box in one hand and a tray holding two cups of coffee in the other. "Breakfast."

"I thought you left," Kate said.

"I did," America said. "And I came back."

"I mean I thought you—"

"I know what you mean," America interrupted. "And I came back. With breakfast. Because apparently that's what we do. Here, couch, or in bed? Although the fact that you got up kind of ruined the breakfast in bed plan. I thought you'd sleep longer."

"Sorry," Kate said. "Couch, I guess." She wasn't ready to forgive America for scaring her yet.

"It's not pancakes," America said, "but hopefully it'll do." She sat down on one end of the couch and put the box on the coffee table, opening it to reveal a selection of pastries. "Are you going to sit, or are you just going to stand there glaring? Because I've gotta say, Princess, you don't do it half as well as I do."

Kate sat. Sulkily, but she sat, and took her cup of coffee (she knew it was hers because it had her name on it) and a bearclaw as she curled her legs up under her in the opposite corner.

America looked around, taking in the place that she'd hardly noticed the night before, having been focused on other things. Her eyes stopped on the picture of Kate and Cassie, both of them wearing giant smiles. Kate remembered that day, remembered that moment, the two of them mugging for the camera.

"Who's that?" America asked.

"Cassie," Kate said. 

"You two look happy."

"We were," Kate replied. "It was her birthday." _Her last birthday._

"Were you...?" America's eyebrow went up, finishing the question without a word.

Kate shook her head. "She was with Vision. I was... with Eli. I guess. Sort of. And Tommy, a little. Not really." She shrugged. "Why?"

America shrugged. "Just curious."

The silence between them was awkward now, and Kate wondered if they'd made a mistake, or if she had, if she'd said the wrong thing or... She hated feeling insecure. She wanted things to be easy. But it wasn't, was it? It never was. 

And as America looked at her, she knew it was about to get worse. "I wasn't trying to upset you by leaving," she said. "I wanted to do something nice. But last night, it wasn't—"

"No," Kate said. "No, don't even _think_ about saying it wasn't anything. Maybe it wasn't the start of any kind of commitment, maybe this isn't a relationship, but don't you _dare_ say, or even imply, that what happened last night was _nothing_. Because it was something to me, and if it wasn't to you then maybe you _should_ just go. Go, and take your pastries and your stone heart and your Miss America-ness elsewhere and leave me alone, because I don't _do_ nothing sex."

America looked at her, set down her coffee and her danish and turned up her hands. "I'm sorry," she said. 

Kate's eyes narrowed. "For what? I don't want an apology if it's just because I got mad. Don't try to _placate_ me."

"I'm sorry for lying," America said. "Or thinking about lying, or even trying to lie. It wasn't nothing. It was pretty damn far from nothing. And maybe I don't quite know what to do with that. Maybe I don't really know how to do this whole morning after thing when it's someone who matters. So I'm sorry if I'm getting it all wrong."

She meant it. Kate could see that she meant it, and she was pretty sure America didn't do apologies that she didn't actually mean. Which meant she owed her one in return, probably, although she didn't know whether it was expected.

"I'm sorry too," Kate said, "for assuming the worst. And sulking."

"You're cute when you pout," America said, smirking.

"You're going to leave, though, aren't you? Today. Soon."

"Soon," America agreed. "But not right this second."

"Yeah, okay."

But after that it was basically already over. What had happened the night before wasn't something they could reclaim; the moment was gone and the spark between them had dimmed to a glowing ember that might be reignited sometime, but not now. Not today.

When they were done with breakfast, America got up. "I'm not going to kiss you goodbye," she told Kate. "Because it's not goodbye.

"How will I find you? If I need you? Or if I just want to see you?"

"You'll find me," America said. "Or I'll find you."

"Promise?" Kate asked.

America smiled, but it was a sad smile. "I promise I will try."

Kate pursed her lips, accepting it but not liking it. But she knew America wasn't likely to make a promise she didn't know if she could keep. Instead, she made one that she could, even if it meant less. But maybe it didn't. Maybe it meant more knowing that it was true.

"So then... I guess I'll see you... when I do," Kate said.

"Take care of yourself, Hawkeye," America said. 

"Yeah, you too, Miss America."

America's wrists began to glow, and she lifted her foot, but Kate reached out, wrapped her fingers around her wrist to cover the star, stopping her. "Don't," she said. "Please. Not like that. Just... use the door."

America frowned. "Why?"

"Because," Kate said, and swallowed hard. "Because even if I'm deluding myself, even if I know you'll just go the end of the hall or the lobby or somewhere and disappear... at least I can imagine that you're out there and I might just bump into you on the street somewhere. At least I can imagine that you're still nearby. Because I've already had too many friends go places where I can't follow."

"Okay, Kate," America whispered, reaching out and pulling her close, hugging her and holding her for a long time. 

Kate pretended not to notice that America was sniffling and blinking red-rimmed eyes when she finally pulled away. She reached out and tucked back a stray curl, then leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you," she said.

" _Hasta luego,_ Hawkeye."

 

*

 

America walked out the door, and just in case Kate was watching out the window, she made sure she was long out of sight before stomping herself into somewhere else, which would, she was sure, be pale in comparison.


End file.
